Deepwood Weald Check the cupboard for your daddy's gun

slightly forward-dated @Hydra

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Grievous had gone further east than he originally intended, forgetting the shadewood for a time to see what precious terrain he might have missed. His explorations bring him to another shroud of tall trees that remind him instantly of his preferred forest further down the coast, but his is a victim to wanderlust, and does not think to return there immediately. Instead he spent his time hunting; and when he turned up unsuccessful in that endeavor, he decided to scavenge... which he had a far better time with after a while.

The victim was an unfortunate coyote, who had to give up his fresh meal to the weald’s bully in a turn of events he had not been expecting. Now, Grievous laid neatly beneath a broad tree (that also happened to be the scene of the crime), enjoying his unearned rabbit with overzealous delight.

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Hydra and her sisters ventured away from Moonspear for a temporary trip (informing their parents they would be home soon, but wanted to fulfill something for their academic pursuits). It was their own makeshift graduation shift that Lyra had the mind to create (creative as she was), and the healer did not find it difficult to convince Hydra—a homebody—and Alya—a scout—when she made mention of two particular wolves. Alya was the easiest to convince as all was well within her paradise. Hydra, on the other hand, was not so sure... until Lyra mentioned that Hydra could give Rian a piece of her mind, if she wanted to. 

She did want to. 

Hydra, @Alya, and @Lyra had gone on their way and scoured the lands for traces of the wolves they sought. Hydra broke away from them, stalking through the Weald in a pantheric prowl as she contemplated what she might say to the man who had scorned her. But this thought soon faded as she came across a bloodtrail. Idly Hydra followed it, though wisely kept a distance from it so she would not be so swiftly discovered and attacked by whoever, or whatever, hunted here. Her senses were alert, and her cool blue eyes surveyed her surroundings as she moved.

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It took but a moment for the hunter to suddenly become the hunted. His eyes found her before she could pinpoint him, and he watched her move carefully with a gaze tinged with interest and something else unreadable. Grievous could tell she was searching for him, hesitating every few steps as she tried to discern where the smell of blood was coming from.

He felt almost as if he could read her mind, feeling closer to her in his imagination the more he stared and the longer it takes for her to see him. The wolf doesn’t move; his head level and his fat paws crossed neatly over the pulled-apart rabbit he had there. Mere moments had passed, but to him it felt like an eon— and he had come to know her quite well in the time it took for cobalt to find gold in the shadow of his presently claimed tree. Grievous remained unmoved, coolly waiting to see if she would be on her way or dare to venture nearer.

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The scent trail did have an end, she came to find. Her ears pricked and she paused as she observed where she had arrived to. Even in respite, the male before her was large—perhaps one of the largest she had seen. He blended well with the colossal tree behind him, but even his girth seemed to challenge it. Her eyes fell to the thing he had torn asunder. More if it remained than had been devoured, it appeared. 

One ear flicked as she regarded him. Her interest was ample, and she took a proud step toward him, lifting her head with confidence she had been born with and confidence she had earned from ample experience (more than most would have at her age, truly) as she challenged, I'll spar you for it, her ears cupped to hear his response, wondering how he would take it. But she felt there was much to learn from this behemoth beneath the ancient tree, and Hydra found she learned more by doing than anything else.

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The little blackbird came closer, every last bit of her composed of lithe, keen lines and noble features— for a girl her age. Grievous was beginning to feel a little disappointed with the ages of these females he came across. He was a wolf inclined to believe he had no need of a woman he couldn’t breed with, but very recently he’d taken on a long-game challenge of grooming himself a fitting mate for his cause... But he wasn’t looking into the indomitably fierce gaze of the fire-born sylph now. This black and blue-eyed creature was a breed raised apart. Even more like him than the wildheart.

The devil’s eyes glittered as she approached, her steps forward gutsy and cautious. His tail, which had lifted from the ground, was waving back and forth in swift strokes, almost as eager to meet her as he would be to a more appropriately aged female. He gave her no reason to stay back, so she did not— by far his favorite trait in any wolf, and especially the kind of daring he liked to see in a she-wolf. Even one as young as her. His lips pulled back into a delighted grimace as she spoke, and rising like a feather, he poised himself low over his meal. “A wicked little haunt to challenge me?” he laughed, his face wildly amused; wholly engaged by her mannerisms. He meant no insult, made clear by his impressed expression and willingness to participate in her spar. He happily shouted “Come! Take it from me.”

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He received her well, and it drew Hydra nearer for a time—up until the very moment he accepted her request. But it was the way in which he accepted it which struck her. Take it from me. That perhaps she could do, and do it well—she was swift, unparrallelled there except, perhaps, by those that mirrored her. She was a natural, though her practice made her all the better. He stood over his meal, and Hydra recalled her mothers advice: move the opponent. 

So Hydra circled in a loose arc around him, her eyes sharp as she recalled the words of Dakarai. She searched for weakness, looking for any fresh wounds or scars that would betray him. A deep inhale foretold that he had no illnesses, and Hydra continued to circle, feinting toward a rear-leg before withdrawing entirely to continue her full circle around him, watchful of his every move, looking for any telltale ripples within his body to betray his intent.